In Dreams
by Melts4Manoso
Summary: Dean is tormented by dreams of a certain angel. Short Destiel one-shot.


_I do not own the rights to anything familiar and do not profit from this in any way._

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><p>The mark on his arm, the one of the Angel's hand print, had faded to almost nothing, but sometimes in the early hours of dawn, when the sun was just starting to pull itself over the horizon, it throbbed like a freshly seared burn.<p>

This morning was one of those times and Dean closed his eyes against the pain, biting his tongue so he wouldn't cry out and wake his brother.

He twisted onto his back, relieving the pressure on his shoulder but the arm still ached, a deep affliction he felt all the way to his bones.

It used to only happen in his presence, but he hadn't seen Castiel in quite a while...weeks, months maybe, and yet the pain was still present; an unwelcome reminder of where he'd been and of the man who'd dragged him out.

Dean discovered pretty quickly that it happened when the Angel was on his mind so he'd resolutely made the decision to banish all thoughts of the celestial being. The plan was successful, for the most part...until he went to sleep.

He couldn't control the dreams, no matter how much he wanted to, so more often than not, he woke up in a great deal of torment.

Rubbing at the spot and trying to will it away wasn't working this time so Dean finally gave up and rolled out of the bed. As quietly as he could manage, he donned his boots, snatched his leather jacket off the back of the chair where he'd left it the night before and slipped out of the dark motel room while Sam snored softly in the other bed.

It was cool outside and he turned up the collar of his coat to ward off the chill in the air as he headed away from the room. He didn't know where he was going and he didn't care; he just needed to think about anything other than Castiel.

There was a park across the street and Dean set off in that direction while he forced his mind into submission. Sammy, that's who he should be thinking of; his brother was hiding something, _again_, and it was something _bad_. Dean didn't know what it was or even if he could attempt to fix it, but he knew in his gut it was something from which both of them might not recover.

He needed help and there was only one person that could even be an option - the one he was trying _not_ to think about.

"Dammit, Cas," Dean softly muttered to himself as he wandered toward the swing sets. His arm began to ache again as soon as the name fell from his lips and he sighed while sinking onto an empty swing.

"This place is strange without any children in it."

Dean nearly fell off the swing at the sudden appearance of the Angel next to him. "Dammit, Cas!" This time the words were forceful and directed at the man gently swinging at his side.

"Hello Dean."

Dean wrapped his fingers around the chain holding the swing in place and tried not to stare at the Angel. He looked tired, like he'd been fighting a battle for weeks without rest. There was a couple of days' worth of stubble on his jaw and what looked like blood staining the lapel of his beige trench coat, but his eyes were such a deep shade of blue that Dean thought he might fall into their swirling depths and never find his way out.

He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat before he trusted himself to speak. "Is there some sort of heavenly rule against giving a warning before you pop into someone's personal space?"

"No," Cas replied seriously, still not comprehending the fine art of sarcasm. "And this is a public park, so you cannot have any personal claim on it."

Dean rolled his eyes and rubbed absently at his shoulder. "What are you doing here, Cas?"

A small smile touched Castiel's lips and Dean's heart seemed to turn over in his chest. "You've been praying," he stated in his deep rumble.

"Yeah, and a fat lot of good it did, I haven't seen a glimpse of your feathery ass in weeks."

"That's because you have to be awake." The smile was still there but Dean felt himself frowning.

"You have to start making sense, Cas. What does that even mean?"

Castiel reached out unexpectedly and pressed his pointer finger against Dean's forehead. "Wake up, Dean!"

Dean's eyes flew open and he cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder as he bolted upright in bed.

"What was that?" Sam demanded from the next bed and Dean didn't miss the knife partially concealed in his brother's hand.

_It was a dream, another fucking dream._ Dean let out a long breath and ran a hand over his hair. "Nothing...just a...it was nothing, go back to sleep."

Sam narrowed his eyes and Dean could see the questions there but he rolled away, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress as he sat up.

"That's the third night this week, Dean," Sam said quietly. "It might help if you talk to me about it."

"Go to sleep, Sammy," Dean insisted as he pulled on his boots. "I'm gonna get some air."

He grabbed his jacket off the chair and slid his arms in the sleeves, trying to ignore the sense of déjà vu, and exited the shitty motel room. He could feel Sam's eyes on his back as he pulled the door closed but he ignored that too.

His brother was right, the dreams were increasing in frequency and he couldn't make them stop. Sometimes he wasn't sure he wanted them to because it was the only time he saw Castiel, but he _needed_ them to. The pain was greater with each one and soon Sam would demand an answer that Dean was unwilling to give.

Glancing across the street at the park, he decided against that option and headed for the coffee shop down the road. He could use the caffeine and he thought he'd seen a sign advertising homemade pie when they'd driven by last night.

As he walked, dream Cas found his way to the forefront of his brain, or rather, what Dream Cas had said. _You have to be awake._

Dean exhaled a slow breath and opened his mouth to pray. "Listen, Cas...if you're out there...I could really use some help. I just...I need you, buddy..." He trailed off when the man didn't appear. He looked at his watch, swearing softly at himself for being so stupid. It was nearly seven and they'd need to get on the road soon if they wanted to make it to Biloxi by noon.

"They have pie."

Dean closed his eyes at the familiar voice and then slowly turned to the Angel now at his side. Cas was looking a few feet ahead at the sign in the coffee shop's window.

"Is this a dream?" Dean breathed, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

"No, it's not a dream," Castiel assured him, turning to meet his gaze. "You called. I will always come if you call."

Emotion welled in Dean's chest but he blinked back the tears threatening to fall and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Sammy's in trouble, Cas."

"I know."

"I can't do this alone," Dean whispered.

Castiel's blue, blue eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're not alone, Dean."

In that moment, Dean quit fighting his feelings, the ones he'd been trying to hide since the first time the Angel appeared in front of him. He looped his arm around Cas' neck, jerked him into a full body hug and dropping his head on his shoulder, let the tears come.

"You're not alone," Castiel repeated into his ear as his arms came around Dean's back, returning the fierce embrace. "I'm here, _always_."


End file.
